


garden

by queenhomeslice



Series: Gladnis One-Shots [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Fluff, Getting Together, Gladnis, Kissing, Language of Flowers, M/M, asking someone out, florist Ignis, health store clerk gladio
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-14 01:33:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29163468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenhomeslice/pseuds/queenhomeslice
Summary: I’ll always be right hereWhen everything’s unclearPlease promise you won’t let goHold on til the morningForget all the scoringYour flowers will finally grow
Relationships: Gladiolus Amicitia/Ignis Scientia
Series: Gladnis One-Shots [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2097777
Comments: 8
Kudos: 24





	garden

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I am not affiliated with Square Enix or any production studios behind the Final Fantasy franchise or Final Fantasy XV; I am not making money from this work and I do not own the rights to FF in any way.  
> _____  
> Title and summary from Garden by Meet Me @ The Altar

Ignis Scientia prepares for his day today just like he always does—by battling his overwhelming attraction to the tanned, hunky store clerk that works at the GNC next to his modest flower stand. It doesn’t help that his first name is _gladiolus_ , a _flower_ —if Ignis believed in such silly, overly-romantic tropes like “soulmates,” he might say that, well, _of course_ the Doritos-shaped beefcake with the flower name is his soulmate. How could he not be? Ignis feels his cheeks heat up every time Gladiolus passes _Weave & Vine, _a warm smile spreading across his broad face. Ignis’ eyes are constantly drawn to the long scar over his left eye, and he constantly wonders how he acquired it, not that it detracts from his handsome face; and the feathery tattoo that pokes from under his too-small shirt makes his mouth water more than he’d like to admit. Ignis fantasizes about seeing the whole thing. 

But Ignis stays in his flower shop, and Gladio stays in the GNC, selling protein bars and whey mix for muscle heads, because that’s where they belong. It’s not that Ignis doesn’t work out—he does, and he takes pride in presenting a certain image of himself, but he’s not a steroid-addled gym bro. Gladio looks like he’d be the leader of that gang, but Ignis projects all sorts of things onto the mysterious, hunky clerk—he knows almost nothing about him. Ignis prefers to keep it that way. Never meet your heroes, right? And besides, Ignis is content to pine from afar. What if Gladiolus is nothing like Ignis imagined? He’s not sure he could live with that disappointment. 

“Hey,” says a deep baritone voice from the other side of the counter. 

One weird thing about the indoor flower stand is that there’s not really a door—Ignis just keeps all his bouquets under lock and key in refrigerated cabinets, only filling out the decorative stands and the rustic little garden wagon during business hours. There’s no register, only an iPad with a square reader, which he takes home with him at the end of every day. Ignis is in the process of booting up the iPad when he hears the voice that gives him goosebumps. 

He turns. Gladiolus is, as usual, in that ridiculously small white polo with the red _GNC_ logo on top of his left pec (which Ignis can see a clear definition of, dear gods). His long dark hair is in a cute half-up half-down man bun today, and Ignis forgets how to breathe for a second. It takes several blinks for him to realize that Gladiolus is holding out a cup of Ebony Roaster’s coffee. 

“Um,” says Ignis. “Hello Gladiolus.” 

“Hey man, I told you. Just Gladio’s fine.” Gladiolus chuckles deeply, and Ignis swallows. “Uh, I got some coffee for ya? I had some rewards points on the Ebony app so I got your drink for free.” 

Ignis blinks, staring up into Gladio’s honey amber eyes. “Well, thank you, Gladiolus—Gladio,” he corrects, shivering a bit at the familiarity. He reaches out to take the plastic cup that Gladio’s offering, feeling hot from the brush of the other man’s hand against his. “How thoughtful.” 

“Yeah no sweat,” says Gladio. “I wasn’t sure what you wanted, so I just went with my usual.” 

Ignis closes his eyes and takes a sip, humming in appreciation. He adjusts his glasses and smiles. “Sweet cream vanilla cold brew.” 

“Good, huh? It’s one of my favorites.” 

“A bit sweet, but not to worry, Gladio. I’ll drink it happily. I appreciate the gesture.” 

Gladio smiles. “Noted for next time. You a black coffee man, or what?” 

Ignis chuckles and sets the coffee on the counter, continuing to set up the iPad. “Something like that, yes. I’m a bit of an Americano fan. If I do add anything, it’s a few packets of honey and nothing more.” 

Gladio nods and sips his own drink. “I’ll have to try that. I do like their almond milk lattes, too.” 

“Mmmm, yes,” says Ignis, nodding. He can feel the butterflies in his stomach fluttering in overdrive. Now they have something in _common_. Ignis finishes setting up the Square reader and flicks on the vintage Edison bulbs that hang overhead in the tiny shop. He checks his watch—it's ten minutes until the mall opens, but they’re on the second floor and traffic takes a few minutes to trickle up to the top. 

Gladio backs out of the shop as Ignis busies himself with arranging his bouquets and singular flowers in the stands and the wagon that’s just outside. 

“So, what got you into flowers?” 

“Hm?” Ignis turns from arranging a bouquet of white daisies, baby’s breath, dahlias, and princess miyukis. “Oh, well. I spent a lot of time on my uncle’s farm as a child, and the gardens always fascinated me. I suppose I sort of fell into it after getting an art degree, and well, I’ve been lucky enough to have my own shop here ever since.” 

Gladio nods, sighing as he looks at his own watch. “Better get back next door,” he says, like he doesn’t want to leave. 

Ignis doesn’t want him to leave, ever. “Of course. Thank you again for the coffee, Gladio.” 

The handsome jock nods, smiling again. “Anytime, Ignis.” 

Ignis swallows what he wants to say and watches Gladio’s ass as he retreats back into the world of nutritional supplements. 

When Ignis’ part-timer sends him a text later that morning, calling out of his modest four-hour shift, the florist can only hang his head and sigh. He’ll have to close the shop for at least fifteen minutes so he can run and at least get some á la carte sushi for lunch. He sighs, trying not to be angry—illness is illness, and Ignis is a compassionate man; but damn, he still needs to eat, and it’s the middle of spring, which means a _lot_ of wedding anniversaries. He’s barely had time to catch a breath and sit on his stool behind the counter, and he’s almost out of the inventory he’d stocked for today. 

A lull finally comes around just after noon, and that’s exactly the time Ignis’ stomach begins to grumble. He sighs, putting the iPad to sleep and putting it back inside of his satchel to take with him down to the food court, when Gladio appears in the front of the shop, holding two white takeout containers. 

“Hope I’m not interrupting,” Gladio says with a smile. 

Ignis shakes his head. “Of course not. I’ve just now had a lull in traffic.” He motions to the containers. “What’s that?” 

“Well,” says Gladio—and he can’t help it, he can feel himself blushing a little the more he looks at the beautiful florist. “I didn’t see your usual helper pass by today, so I kinda figured you wouldn’t get a lunch break. I’m on mine right now, so I just got double noodles. It ain’t much, but I thought I could watch your shop for a few minutes while you scarfed ‘em down.” 

Ignis looks up at Gladio’s handsome, handsome face. “Gladio, I’m truly touched. You needn’t have gone through all the trouble just to...” 

“I wanted to,” Gladio cuts off. He approaches the counter and sets down the takeout boxes, along with some napkins and two sets of chopsticks. “I don’t mind helping you out.” 

“If you’re certain,” says Ignis. “I’m touched, truly.” 

Gladio only hums as he opens his own container and begins to eat. 

The next day, Gladio appears before the mall’s opening yet again, this time with the much-less-sweet iced Americano from Ebony Roasters. Ignis nods in thanks and lets his fingers linger a little longer on Gladio’s thick fingers as he takes the cup. 

“So, question,” says Gladio, quietly. “Do you know flower language?” 

Ignis nods as he sips the bitter drink, smacking his lips. “Gods, that’s good. Thank you, Gladio. And yes, I am well-versed in the hidden meanings of certain arranged flora. Floriography, it’s called.” 

Gladio taps his chin for a second, then, “Okay. So say I want to take someone out. They’re, well. Someone I don’t know very well, but I’d _like_ to get to know them, and take them on a date. What’s a bouquet that says that?” 

Ignis smiles, a little sadly. _You missed your chance_. But Gladio’s been so kind, bringing him coffee and helping him with lunch yesterday, and he doesn’t have the heart to tell him to Google it himself. “I believe I know just the thing.” He checks his watch. “Barring any unforeseen circumstance, I’ll have it ready for you shortly.” 

Gladio smiles. “Great. Just holler at me next door.” 

Ignis spends nearly an hour, in-between customers, thoughtfully preparing the flower bouquet for Gladio. He swallows down his jealousy and puts on nothing short of a professional air, getting lost in thought as he adds to the designated mason jar on the counter. The morning passes quickly, and Ignis doesn’t even get a chance to eat lunch with Gladio again thanks to his helper showing up on time. Ignis eats his modest sandwich in the tiny backroom and scrolls his social media. When his lunch is over, the shop is still deserted, so he plucks a few final flowers for the bouquet, and tells his assistant that he’ll be right back. 

The GNC store is empty as well; only Gladio and his co-worker, a short, silver-haired woman named Aranea, are cutting up behind the counter. Ignis gulps. She really is quite beautiful—he wonders if the bouquet is for her. Ignis wouldn’t blame Gladio in the least. He almost turns around and walks out, but Aranea nods at him, and Gladio turns. 

Ignis burns under his gaze as Gladio rounds the counter and takes the mason jar full of flowers. 

“Man, this is gorgeous,” Gladio says, lifting the jar, being careful not to slosh the water within it. “Damn, you’re really good Ignis. No wonder you’re always busy.” 

Ignis blushes under the praise. “Yes, well. I take my craft quite seriously. I appreciate your kindness.” 

“Wanna tell me what’s in here?” 

Ignis nods. “Of course.” He points to each flower as he names it and its meaning. “Pink camellias, indicating longing. Red columbines, indicating trembling or anxiety—you said you didn’t know this person that well, so I sensed some apprehension. I thought those would be appropriate.” He clears his throat. “Daisies for hope, calla lilies for beauty, pink roses for happiness, sorrel for affection, and yellow tulips, indicating ‘sunshine in your smile,’” Ignis glances up at Gladio’s face. 

“Oh...wow,” he breathes, and Gladio gulps hard. “That is...hell, Ignis. That’s perfect.” 

Ignis smiles. “Of course, my friend. It was no trouble.” 

“How much do I owe you?” 

Ignis waves his hand. “On the house, as a thanks for your generous offers of coffee and lunch yesterday.” 

Gladio smirks a little. “Well, that works out then. It’d be weird to pay you for something that you’re going to be keeping anyway.” Gladio holds the jar of flowers back out to Ignis. 

Ignis blinks. “I’m...not sure I understand?” 

Gladio chuckles. “Well, uh. The flowers, and wanting to ask someone out...they were for you.” 

“I...oh.” 

“Yeah.” 

“You wish to ask me out.” 

“Very much, yes.” 

Ignis looks down at his own bouquet, then back up into Gladio’s warm eyes. “I would be honored.” 

Gladio lets out a long exhale. “Thank gods,” he says with breathy laugh. “I was pretty nervous there.” He leans down and tips Ignis’ chin up between his fingers. “Is this okay?” 

Ignis grips the mason jar hard. He can feel himself shaking. “Please,” he breathes, as Gladio leans forward and presses a chaste kiss against his lips. 

“I’ll come by after we close,” says Gladio, drawing back up to his full height, smiling down at him with unbridled affection. 

Ignis’ mouth is hanging open, and he’s still clutching the bouquet in trembling hands. He can only nod and turn, walking mechanically back to his own shop next door, setting the jar of flowers next to his iPad. 

“Everything okay?” his plucky assistant asks. 

Ignis licks his lips and shoots him a small smile. “Everything is perfect.” 


End file.
